ValCala
by Kashaar
Summary: The prophesized Light of the Valar has come to Middle Earth in the form of a child of Men, raised by Elves when her parents were killed. When all her hopes of learning about the Light are destroyed, will she be able to go it alone and fulfill her duty?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas or Thranduil or Mat or any of the places mentioned. But Varekai, Solstrom, and Amadhor are mine. At least, I think they are...

PROLOGUE

Legolas burst into his father's chambers, still in traveling clothes, a small bundle cradled carefully in his arms. His jerkin was singed in a few places, and a few small scrapes stood out against his fair skin.

Thranduil stood immediately, his eyes drawn to the rather large cut that ran down Legolas' cheek. "What is it, my son? Why are you injured?"

Legolas shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said breathlessly. "Look." Thranduil watched with some uncertainty as Legolas lifted a flap of cloth away to reveal the sleeping face of a baby. At his father's confused look, Legolas moved away a few more folds of cloth until more of the child was visible. Her hands glowed a soft white.

Thranduil's eyes widened, and he stepped closer. "The Light..." he whispered. "It has come." He reached out to touch the child's hand, feeling a tingly warmth spread through him the moment his skin touched hers. He looked up at his son. "How did you find her?"

Legolas frowned as he spoke, obviously uneasy. "I came by chance upon her home, in flames. Her parents were already dead. I heard her cries from within. I believe it was Raukaraniâr's work."

Thranduil nodded slowly. "It is no mere chance that brought you there, my son. Fate has brought the Light of the Valar to us. We shall raise her here; she shall have the same upbringing as any Elf child."

Legolas gave a small smile. "Then, ada, she should be raised by one who is not a Lord, nor a King. If you were to take in a child of Men, it would certainly be known by many."

Thranduil nodded with regretful acceptance. "Yes, Legolas, you are right. It is of utmost importance that as few others as possible know of this. If Raukaraniâr learns that the child survived, he will waste no time in attacking Mirkwood." He began pacing, looking out his window at the setting Sun, and wondering who should be the one to raise the child whose life could determine the future of Middle-Earth. "Who?" he muttered. "Who could raise the girl?"

Legolas spoke after a moment's silence. "What of Amadhor Tasartir?"

Thranduil frowned. "Tasartir is one of the sentries, is he not?" He ceased his pacing to cast a disapproving look at his son.

Legolas nodded. "Yes, on the northwestern border. I have known him for some time. Amadhor is responsible and intelligent. He would make a good guardian for the girl."

Thranduil considered this for a moment before speaking. "I had not thought a sentry would do well for the task, but perhaps you are right. I will speak with him tomorrow." He moved to the window and stared out at the golden-red hues the Sun cast upon the clouds as it sank below the horizon.

Legolas ran a finger over the girl's forehead gently, smiling at her peaceful expression, then looked up at his father. "What of her name, ada? Surely you wish to give the child a name."

Thranduil turned and looked at the sleeping child silently. After a moment his gaze shifted to his son's face. "Perhaps you should have that honor, my son. You may choose a name for her."

Legolas looked down at the girl again, wondering what name would befit a child of such importance as she was. "Varekai," he said softly, caressing her cheek. "Her name shall be Varekai."


	2. The Arrival

Disclaimer: Legolas and Mat aren't mine. I wish they were, but they aren't. But Amadhor, Varekai and Solstrom are. That is some consolation I guess. But not much.

---yes, this IS the Mat from Wheel of Time, and a lot of this I have written for people who have at least a small understanding of the books. so this is just a warning that you're going to see some WoT terms, like Aiel---

CHAPTER 1

Mat ran as fast as he could over the rough terrain, clutching at his black-hafted spear. The sword blade at the end gleamed in the sunlight, and the inscription on the shaft flashed noticeably. His long green coat billowed behind him, rippling like a banner on the wind. He grimaced, and wished he had had time to leave the coat somewhere. He knew it stood out against the stark background, an indicator to his pursuers of his location.

He glanced back, and nearly stumbled over a rock. The guards were gaining. He gave a frustrated sigh and tried to go faster, looking ahead to the treeline. He knew if he could reach that forest before they caught him, he could hide. Out here, on the flat, rocky plains, there was nowhere to go.

Shouts echoed behind him as he leapt a stream and darted into the woods. He almost regretted it when he saw the dark, looming trees that seemed crowded into the area, so closely that it made silence very difficult. His regrets disappeared immediately when he heard more shouts behind him, though. He dashed through the trees, dodging branches every so often, and finally hunkered down in a clump of bushes, careful not to rustle the leaves.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, but he was surprised to find that after what seemed like hours of waiting, the guards still had not passed the spot. Cautiously, he crept from the low brush, glancing around. For the first time it registered in his mind that he was lost.

"Light, where am I?" he muttered, gripping his spear tightly and looking around as if he expected something to leap out of the trees themselves. The leaves stirred with a slight breeze, and he jumped, whirling around quickly.

With a shake of his head, he forced himself to relax. "Now…which way did I come…?" he mumbled to himself, glancing back at what seemed to be a familiar trail. With a slight nod, he moved in the opposite direction, still talking to himself in a low voice. "No reason to see if they're out there waiting for me."

He walked for some time, moving unknowingly deeper into the forest, until an all-too familiar feeling entered his mind. The dice began to tumble inside his head, and he glanced around, seeing nothing.

Suddenly a voice came from somewhere to his left. "Drop your weapon." Mat tightened his grip on the spear, glaring defiantly at the dark woods around him. The voice repeated its message, and he shook his head, but did not say anything. Within an instant he caught a glimpse of broad arrowheads in the trees, their owners invisible to him. He whirled around, and saw that they had encircled him. Arrows pointed at him from every direction.

Gritting his teeth, he loosened his grip and let the spear fall to the ground. He still had his daggers. He hoped they would somehow not know about those.

The moment the weapon left his hands, shadowy shapes moved into view, and he could see the cloaked figures holding the bows. One of the forms stepped closer to him, and the nameless voice gained an appearance in his mind.

"Who do you be, stranger, and why do you come uninvited to the forest of Mirkwood?" Mat thought it strange that he had not noticed before, but the voice was quite melodious. It had a defined accent that made the words sound more beautiful than he had heard them said before, but yet it was an accent he could not place.

He stood straighter as he spoke. "My name is Matrim, and I came here to escape pursuit. I need a place to lie low."

The cloaked figure nodded, and Mat thought he caught a glimpse of blonde hair behind the drawn up hood. "Then you shall be escorted to Calentaur. I trust you will come willingly?" the voice seemed to allow no other answer than 'yes', so Mat responded with a nod.

In an instant his wrists were seized, though not roughly. A few of the bows lowered, and one of the cloaked figures took his spear from the ground and disappeared into the trees with it. The one who had spoken moved out ahead, and the forms holding Mat's wrists followed, tugging lightly at him to get him moving. He clenched his jaw in annoyance, but followed. The ones with the bows were out of sight now, but he did not doubt that they were still there, ready to shoot.

As he walked he watched the two who held him. Those cloaks blended in perfectly with the wooded background, enough that even this close up, he had trouble seeing where the cloaks ended and the forest began. _Like a Warder,_ he thought to himself. He watched them walk, their movements full of a fluid grace that made them seem as if they were floating a few inches off the ground. Their feet made no sound as they walked, and they left no footprints to show that they had ever been there. _More like an Aiel,_ he decided.

Suddenly the trees opened up into what could be called a clearing, though it was not completely clear. Some trees grew in the area, though they were few and far between. On the far edge people were shooting at targets with bows identical to those pointed at Mat. Closer to him were people sparring in pairs, or sometimes groups of three or four. Most held either long, elegantly curved swords, with hilts of the same length as the blades; or twin knives, each the size of a small sword and curved. The swords and knives had no cross guards, and the handles seemed to flow smoothly into the blades. There were a few assorted spears and quarterstaffs among the bunch, but not nearly as many.

Yet to him what was even stranger were the people. They were tall, and elegant-looking. Most had fair skin, and light hair, usually half pulled back in an assortment of braids or twists. A few had dark hair, but the ones who did seemed even more rare than a person who used a quarterstaff. Their ears looked almost normal, except that they were pointed. This description applied to all he could see, save for one.

There was one woman in the area. Her ears were normally rounded at the tip, and she was not quite as tall as the rest of them. She wore the same green-brown hues as the others, but unlike them, her hair was dark, and all pulled back into a single, long braid down her back. The braid swung as she moved, just as graceful and fluid as the pointy-eared one she was facing.

Mat felt a tug at his wrists and realized he had stopped. He started moving again, slowly, staring at the woman. She certainly was beautiful. He almost smiled as her battle ended with one of the knives she used held an inch from the other's throat. A good fighter, too.

She faded from view as they continued on. Mat looked ahead and saw nothing but trees, but then the open space that was obviously a practice area had appeared seemingly from nowhere. He expected wherever he was being taken to be much the same, and so he was not surprised when the trees opened up slightly again, and beautiful structures that seemed to blend with the forest surroundings were visible.

The ones who held him led him through a maze of trees and those beautiful buildings, until they came to a smaller one, and stopped outside it. The one who seemed to be the leader turned to face him.

"You will stay here. Feel free to explore, but do not try to leave, or you will be caught again." Mat nodded, glancing around. He would not leave without his spear anyways, and they still had that somewhere. The two at his side let go of him, and moved away, leaving only him and the one cloaked figure there. A voice from behind him startled him slightly.

"Another intruder, Amadhor?" Mat turned quickly, and there was the woman he had seen fighting. Her gaze swept over him briefly, then turned to the cloaked one behind him.

"This one seeks refuge," came the voice of the person in the cloak. Mat assumed he was Amadhor.

The woman nodded. "Who is he?"

Slightly annoyed that they were acting as if he did not exist, Mat swept a bow to the woman, speaking before Amadhor could. "My name is Matrim. Matrim Cauthon. And what might your name be?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Amadhor, then Mat. Mat thought she looked amused. "I am Varekai," she said after a moment. "Good to meet you, Matrim."

He straightened. "Mat," he said with a smile. "Call me Mat."

Varekai nodded. "Mat, then."

Mat glanced at Amadhor again, noticing that the hood had been lowered to show his face. He looked much like the other people there: pointed ears, fair skin, and blonde hair with strands from each side pulled back in a single braid that mingled with the rest of his hair, which still hung loose.

The man turned to look at Varekai, with a small nod of his head. "I must return to the borders, as do my men." His gaze turned to Mat, and he continued to speak. "Remember what I said. You may be here under our protection, but you still must abide the rules. Others will be watching you." Mat nodded, and Amadhor turned and walked away. Within moments he faded into the trees, invisible.

Mat turned to look at Varekai again, and saw her walking away as well. "Wait!" he half-shouted, sprinting after her. She glanced back and stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

"What?" she said once he reached her.

Mat thought hard for a moment, trying to come up with a reason to talk with her. "Um…where are you going?" he said after a moment, keeping himself from wincing. He knew he could have come up with a much better line than that.

She raised an eyebrow. "Back to the practice field. Why?"

"I…uh…had something I wanted to ask," he stuttered. At least that was true.

Varekai only watched him silently, obviously waiting for him to ask.

"Who are all these people?" he said with a sweeping gesture that indicated the pointy-eared ones, managing to smooth his voice a bit so he didn't sound like a complete fool. He wanted to ask why she was not like them, but it did not seem like a polite question for someone he had just met.

She smiled, giving him another amused look. "They are Elves," she said, looking as if trying not to laugh. "Anything else?"

Mat smiled as well, acting as if it were some big joke. "Yeah…" he said after a moment. "Do you mind if I come to the practice field with you?" At a raised eyebrow from her, he hastily added, "Just to watch, I mean."

Varekai shrugged. "I suppose so, if you really want to." She turned and continued walking, completely missing Mat's alluring grin. He started after her, walking quickly to keep up with her long strides.

The practice field opened up before them, and there, as before, were the Elves practicing in groups, some with blades, some with bows.

One of the Elves moved towards them, seeming to materialize from nowhere, and began speaking with Varekai in a low voice. Mat listened curiously. The language was foreign to him, but even though he did not understand the words, he found them pleasant to listen to. Everything about these Elves seemed beautiful, and elegant.

He heard his name, and started out of his trance-like state. The Elf turned towards him, placing a hand over his heart, then taking a step towards Mat to clap his hand on Mat's shoulder.

"Mae govannen," the Elf said in that smooth language. After a moment, Mat realized that he should do the same, and he clumsily repeated the gesture, stumbling over the words. The Elf only smiled.

"Greetings. I am Legolas," he said, casually propping his bow up against a tree. Mat noticed that this bow was different than all the others. Where all the ones he had seen so far were of a normal length, and shining black with gold décor on the curves, this one was of a lighter wood, and was much longer. Embossed leaf designs wound all down the bow, and seemed to be made of a slightly lighter wood, though Mat could not see how that was possible.

Mat smiled slightly, and introduced himself. He wondered how many more times he would have to repeat his name that day.


	3. The Destruction

Mat and Legolas. Not mine. Varekai, Solstrom, Amadhor. Mine. I think.

CHAPTER 2

Mat sat in the not-quite-spacious, yet comfortable room that he had been given, staring out the window at the setting sun. He still smiled at the memory of watching Legolas give Varekai some archery lessons. The woman had seemed as hard as stone, but the moment she'd had a bow put in her hand, all the cool seriousness had faded. She'd seemed as helpless as a newborn wolf pup with the bow in her hand, instead of those two knives. Legolas had proved to be, without doubt, the best archer Mat had ever seen. And Varekai probably one of the worst. He shook his head in amusement at the memory.

Faint noises reached him from outside, and he frowned, turning to face the door. Almost the instant he rose to see what was going on the door burst open, and Varekai and Legolas stood there. The Elf held his bow in one hand, and Mat's spear in the other. Varekai gripped her two knives, one in each hand.

"Can you fight?" she half-shouted. She had to, to be heard over the shouts from outside. Beyond her, he could see Elves rushing about quickly, most holding weapons. With a quick glance to his spear, he nodded. Legolas tossed the spear to him, and he snatched it easily out of the air.

"What's going on?" he questioned, looking back and forth between them.

"Orc attack," Legolas said calmly.

Varekai frowned, and shook her head. "No, there's something else too. No Orcs could have gotten past the outer defenses." At a questioning look from Legolas, she shook her head again. "I don't know how I know, I just do!" She looked back to Mat, already starting to back away from the doorway. "Come on!"

Mat nodded and followed Varekai and Legolas, he himself having no idea where they were going. Elves darted around them, none that Mat could see unarmed. Already he could hear shouts coming from the direction they were going in. The battle must have begun already.

They entered the trees, and he watched Varekai, following her. Legolas, wearing one of those cloaks, seemed to disappear into his surroundings. He didn't know how long they walked before they came to the battle, but it was not long.

The trees began to thin, and suddenly he could see everything. His eyes widened in shock at what he saw.

Thousands, tens of thousands, of beings that to him resembled Trollocs were pouring into the woods. Every few seconds a hail of arrows fell from the sky into the mass of what he could only assume were Orcs; no doubt fired by the Elves. Already dead Elves and Orcs alike littered the area. The clang of steel on steel rang throughout the area.

Varekai rushed ahead of him, towards the front lines. Legolas was already gone. Hefting his spear, Mat plunged into battle.

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The guttural shrieks of Orcs and the battle cries of Elves came from every direction around Varekai. The clang of steel echoed loudly through the trees. She charged forward, knives whirling in her hands. The thought that Mat had better be a good fighter crossed her mind briefly before she reached her first Orc, and she quickly dismissed the thought.

"_Herio_!" she shouted, parrying a blade with one knife and delivering a killing blow with the other. From the corner of her eye she could see another cascade of arrows rain down upon the Orcs who were still too far for close combat.

Almost from instinct she ducked low as an Orc scimitar whistled over her head. She stabbed both of her knives backwards and heard a low groan from the Orc as the blades penetrated his armor and broke his knees.

Without even stopping to glance at the fallen Orc, Varekai stood with a quick twirl to face behind her. As she rose and spun, she raised her knives above her head, and the moment she saw another Orc behind her, she leapt and brought both blades down on his head with a crack. Placing a foot on his chest, she pushed him back and jerked her knives out from their place embedded in his skull.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly noticed that her knife blades were glowing softly, with a steady, yet dim, white light. Hearing a growl behind her, she whirled, knives raised, a second too late. The scimitar the Orc held swung towards her…and was knocked aside by a black and silver blur.

Varekai leapt back, and Mat came into her field of vision, his spear whirling like a helicopter blade. The sword-bladed tip glinted in the fading dusk light as it sunk into the Orc's flesh, and was pulled away just as quickly.

She gave him a nod of thanks, and he nodded back, grinning. Then he was moving away, handling the spear as if he'd had it in his hands since the day he was born. Varekai did not see him, occupied by another foe.

She did not know how long she fought before Legolas appeared, seemingly from nowhere, bow in hand. His quiver held only one arrow.

"We have to leave, Varekai," he hissed, motioning for her to come. She frowned in confusion, shaking her head. Legolas spoke again. "There are too many. They will overwhelm the defenses. I'll explain the rest later, now come!"

She took a step towards Legolas, and suddenly Mat was beside her, holding his spear calmly. "If you're leaving, so am I," he said, glancing at Legolas, who made an impatient gesture.

"I don't care," the Elf said. "Just come!" He turned and sped away into the trees. Varekai hesitated only a moment before running after him, Mat following close behind her. She could see that the Elf had purposely left his hood down, leaving his blonde hair clearly visible to her, like a beacon to follow.

It did not seem to her like they had run very far before they came to open fields. Tall grass swayed around them as they ran, the shortest of it up to her waist.

A deafening roar erupted from behind them, and Varekai stopped, turning slowly. Her eyes widened in awed horror. Legolas and Mat had stopped as well. Mat stared in the same direction as Varekai with wide eyes, but Legolas had turned away, obviously not wanting to watch.

A great column of light descended from the sky onto the forest, its hue so dark a red that it could almost be black. It blotted out the light from the Sun, casting shadows on the field where the three stood. Bright lightning flashes of red streaked around it in a swirling vortex, giving it the look of some monstrous cyclone.

It touched down to the tips of the trees, and suddenly the lightning flashes that had been moving in a steady circle around it streaked down into the trees. Then came the moment that none of the three would ever forget.

Flames erupted from everywhere the darkness touched, leaping from tree to tree until nearly the entire forest was ablaze with the unnaturally black flames. Thick smoke began to waft out of the trees. Even from the distance, Varekai could hear the screams. The dying cries of Elves mingled with the anguished shrieks of the Orcs in a bleak and ominous harmony.

A tear drifted down her face, and she turned away, but no matter what she did she could still hear those screams. The sound of them rose above the noise of the crackling flames, over the dull roar the column seemed to produce.

She was aware of Mat coming up beside her, his head down. Legolas stood in front of her, his back to the two of them, and to the awful sight of his home burning. Varekai looked down at the grass, and saw her hands shaking. Her knives lay on the ground in front of her, though she did not remember dropping them.

Finally the noise subsided, and the eerie silence that followed seemed worse than the screams. She was not sure how long it was before Legolas turned to face them. He had drawn his hood up to hide his face.

"Come," he said in a slightly wavering voice. "We must get as far away as we can."

Author Note: Please, please PLEASE review! It really helps me to know what I'm doing right/wrong. Especially since this is my first fanfic ever. And I promise much will be explained in the next chapter. I hope.


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